I write all the time…. in my head. Be it 2:30 in the morning, 7:30 in the shower, or 10:30 at break time, I am constantly telling my story – to myself. I almost wish I had a mini tape recorder that I could speak into so that when I did sit down to write a blog entry, I would remember all the brilliant things I wrote in my mind.
But I suppose to “hear” them out loud would make it all so real and part of me still doesn’t believe that it is real. It’s been almost 8 months since D-day…. The first of my D-days… I have three—Discovery day, divorce day and death day. I told my therapist I’m holding out for #4: Deliverance.
I spent the end of February in Austin. I wasn’t quite sure that I wanted to be there but didn’t have a choice. Work was still work and I needed to be a part of this conference so I accepted that it was going to be me and 1200 of my “closest” friends for the next four days. It was also the first time I’ve been to be in a group of folks where the focus was not over a common personal bond such as divorce or death. I dreaded getting those personal questions…. Are you married, do you have children, and tell me about yourself.
For months, I have struggled with who I am, who I was, and worse, who I had become all through what I believed was no fault of my own. It was easier for me to believe and to say that I was widowed, even though M & I were legally divorced by the time he took his life. But for whatever reason, it was just more soothing to my soul to identify myself as a widow.
So when asked, are you married? I would respond (probably with a sad look in my eyes) that my husband had died. After the obligatory look of sympathy I would get follow up questions such as did you have any children? which was always a painful trigger for me even when we were married. But the fact remained that my answer wasn’t the truth and each time I said it, it would bother me more and more. M wasn’t my husband anymore and I was lying, not only to others but to myself. Each time it would simply remind me that all I was doing was perpetuating the life of lies that had started so many months ago. Needless to say, I built up Austin to be a battlefield of triggers that I expected to have to navigate.
Through a very funny set of events the morning that I left, I had a breakthrough. I wasn’t in a group setting led by a counselor, or in my one on one with my therapist or even in a prayer meeting surrounded by my church family, it was me – dealing with a situation that I had neither prepared for nor expected. In this situation, I felt that I needed to explain why something was happening the way it was and without thinking my response was “I lost my husband last year and that’s why etc…” The ladies behind the counter accepted what I said and they didn’t look at me with anticipation of any further information. I smiled to myself the rest of the morning. I had found my proper response, I lost my husband. It was honest, it was simple and it was all that was needed.
I had to say it just one more time in Austin when asked if I was married and it yielded the same response. Nothing—no anticipation of follow up information expected to be shared. It was oh, I’m sorry and then onto the next topic.
I lost my husband – so simple and truthful and yet only part of the truth. I lost myself too last year. I lost the person that I thought I was, the person I thought I would be till death, not divorce, do me part. However, in my loss there was a lot found. I found depression, I found anger, i found grief, I found confusion, I found lies, I found myself receiving advice—good and bad and unsolicited, I found myself searching—constantly searching. But it didn’t occur to me to find myself.
I have come to realize that I don’t have to identify myself as any “one” thing. I am not either divorced OR widowed. And I don’t have to be defined by what happened last year. I can be defined by how I choose to define myself. I am a kind person, a beautiful soul within a beautiful body, loved and forgiven by an awesome God.
Hello, my name is Z and I have found that I’m happy to be me.